


Taking Notes

by kittleimp



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittleimp/pseuds/kittleimp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil and Carlos</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Notes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosecat13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecat13/gifts).



> I've decided to start posting shorter ficlets/drabbles. Here's the first, written for a sweet girl of mine who has been having a rough time lately. I love you, Em. <3

The number of days is always a bit off in the Little Reporter’s book. It doesn’t account for how long Cecil has been alive, only how many he seems to think have passed since his fifth birthday. One would think that it wouldn’t be too hard to count that number, but things are never as easy as they seem. 

“So how do you know that it has been... how long?” Carlos asks, leaning over to see the book.

“12,153 days.”

“Yeah, how do you know that it has been that long?”

“Well, it just kind of has, Carlos. Do you question how many years you’ve been alive just because you don’t trust your birth certificate?”

“Cecil, my birth certificate actually says something.”

Cecil groans and sets the book on the table. It’s the same discussion they’ve been having all evening, starting when Cecil first got home from the radio station. The problem is not with the notes, not even with the numbers on the pages, it’s with the book alone. It says nothing. Not to Carlos, at least. He shoots Cecil an exasperated glance and gets an identical one in response.

“There’s a good reason that you can’t read it, Carlos. Imagine if everyone could read the book that has notes from every day of my life for the past thirty three years.”

“So you’re the only one who can read it?”

“Well... not exactly.”

A familiar smile slides onto Cecil’s face. The last time that Carlos had seen it had been that morning. An arm had wrapped over his stomach, drawing him out of the space between the sleeping and waking worlds. His boyfriend had stared back at him with that same smile before pressing a soft kiss against his lips.

Now Cecil takes his hands and guides one to the books pages. He holds the other tightly and presses his own free hand to the worn pages of the endless book. Instantly, words appear in familiar loopy handwriting. It doesn’t stop there, though. Words are continuing to appear.

_Carlos is reading the book now._

_I have never shown anyone else before._

_I trust Carlos._

_I love Carlos._

_Carlos is now kissing me._


End file.
